1. MARCH THE EIGHTEENTHSunday morning had come, and Owen was trudging over the six
miles of hill and dale that lay between Tolchurch and
Carriford.
Edward Springrove's answer to the last letter, after expressing
his amazement at the strange contradiction between the verses and
Mrs. Morris's letter, had been to the effect that he had again
visited the neighbour of the dead Mr. Brown, and had received as
near a description of Mrs. Manston as it was possible to get at
second-hand, and by hearsay. She was a tall woman, wide at the
shoulders, and full-chested, and she had a straight and rather
large nose. The colour of her eyes the informant did not know, for
she had only seen the lady in the street as she went in or out.
This confusing remark was added. The woman had almost recogni
